Rose Harbor in Bloom (29 page)

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Do I wish that things had been different? Of course. But I’ll always be grateful to you for giving birth to my child. For loving her enough to allow a loving family to adopt her and give her a good life. Don’t apologize for that, Mary, but by all that is right, how could you not tell me? Didn’t I have a right to know?” He paused, exhaled sharply, and added, his voice tight and controlled, “What’s done is done, and considering the circumstances, you did what you thought was best.”

He was far too good to her. That was his problem. He was simply too good to be believable. That he should still love her was a miracle she had never expected.

When they arrived in Cedar Cove, Mary was awake enough to give him directions. They found the waterfront, and once they did, Mary was on familiar ground and they easily made their way to the inn.

George turned off the engine and then in a firm voice instructed her, “Stay right where you are.”

Mary hid a smile. At times he could be so bossy.

George ran around the car and opened the passenger door and helped her out. With his arm around her waist, he led her to the sidewalk leading to the front porch.

“For the last two days, I’ve sat outside and soaked in the sunshine.”
It was there that she’d napped in the warmth of the unexpected spring, with flowers blooming all around her, their sweet scent perfuming the air. Rose Harbor in bloom was a magical place.

“Shall we do the same?” he asked, patiently taking the porch steps one at a time, letting her set the pace. “I’d enjoy sitting in the sunshine with the woman I love.”

“You have the time?”

“Mary, if you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m savoring every minute we’re together.”

“Then yes, let’s sit out here awhile.”

“You’re not too tired?”

She was, but like George, she relished this time together and didn’t want him to go.

George guided her around to the side of the porch, and she sat in the wooden chair. A dog barked from inside the house, and after a couple of minutes Jo Marie stepped outside with the short-haired dog at her side.

“You’re back,” she commented, and glanced toward George. “Can I get you anything?”

“George Hudson,” he said, stepping forward to introduce himself. “I think Mary would appreciate a blanket.”

“Right away,” Jo Marie said, and disappeared. She was back in short order with a hand-knit afghan, the very one Mary had used previously.

George settled into the chair next to her, with a side table between them.

“The view here is lovely,” she said, drinking in the beauty of the blue sky, the Olympic mountain peaks, and the shipyard in the distance.

“It is,” he agreed, but he was looking at her.

Mary wasn’t accustomed to compliments. They made her uncomfortable, especially now, when she was very nearly bald and so terribly thin and pale. She did her best to ignore him.

“The Olympic Mountains are stunning, aren’t they?” she said, turning the subject away from herself.

“Beautiful,” he said, turning his attention toward the view.

“Oh, yes,” and then because she was curious she asked, “Have you ever been to Hurricane Ridge?”

“No. I’ve heard about it, though.”

“Me, too,” she said, a bit wistfully.

Mary had read about visiting the ridge in one of the travel brochures she’d picked up while waiting for the Bremerton ferry. Now the chance was taken from her. It wouldn’t be possible to make the long trip. Hurricane Ridge was less than a two-hour drive from Seattle and offered amazing views of the Olympic mountain peaks, wildflower-filled meadows, and excellent hiking trails. She’d read about the park in the Olympic National Forest and wished, as she had so many other things lately, that she’d taken the time … that she’d made the effort.

Regrets. Full loads of those came as a side effect with the cancer.

For several minutes, Mary and George chatted back and forth. George had a quick wit and a dry sense of humor, and she enjoyed bantering with him.

After thirty minutes, he said, “You’re tired.”

She didn’t argue with him. Once more, she found it difficult to keep her eyes open. She’d rested for only a few minutes during the drive, and her energy level was hovering near empty.

“Let me see you to your room.”

She nodded, wondering if she could make it up the stairs on her own strength.

George lifted the blanket from her lap, folded it, and set it aside before he bent over and helped Mary to her feet. He seemed to sense that she needed more than his arm and brought her close to his side.

The stairs were the challenge she’d feared they might be. He was patient, waiting on each step as she took them slowly and
carefully. Mary extracted the room key from her purse, and he took it from her and unlocked the door to her room.

“I can remember a time when you escorted me to my door and didn’t leave until late the next morning,” she whispered.

“Don’t tempt me, Mary.”

She laughed.

“Do you think I’m joking?” he demanded.

“Yes.” She wouldn’t lie.

“Then you’d be in for a shock.”

“Oh, honestly, George, I …”

He pressed a finger to her lips before she could say another word. “You. Are. Beautiful. And I love you.”

Emotion nearly overwhelmed her. “Thank you.” Whether it was true or not, it was exactly what Mary needed to hear. She reached for him, and George hugged her, holding her close and tight. A deep breath shuddered through her as she fought back the effect his words had on her.

“I’m so tired,” she whispered.

“I know. I’m sorry. I should have left you to sleep a long time ago.”

“No …” She sank onto the edge of the bed and removed her jacket.

One by one, George took off her shoes and then lifted her feet onto the mattress and covered her with the quilt that was folded at the bottom of the bed. Bending down, he very gently kissed her forehead.

“I’ll call you later, okay?” he said.

“Of course.”

Exhausted as she was, Mary fell into a deep, restful sleep before George had even closed the door. She woke an hour later, feeling worlds better. A few minutes later, after she was back from using the restroom, someone tapped gently against her door.

“Who is it?” Mary asked.

“Jo Marie. I have a tray for you.”

Mary blinked back her surprise. “I didn’t order anything.” As far as she knew, the inn didn’t provide room service.

Mary opened the door, and the innkeeper walked in, carting a wooden tray. On it rested a large pot of tea with a cup and saucer, a plate of store-bought Fig Newtons, a bright shiny apple, and a Butterfinger, her favorite candy bar.

“Your friend asked me to bring this up to you as soon as you woke.”

All her favorite snacks. George remembered even that, every detail.

“He also ordered your dinner to be delivered at seven tonight. I told him I’d be happy to cook for you, but he insisted on this.”

“Chicken with spicy noodles,” Mary whispered.

“Yes.” Jo Marie sounded surprised that she’d know. They’d often shared a bowl. Their favorite restaurant had been in the international district in Seattle.

“I believe he intends to fatten me up,” Mary said, and reached for the candy bar.

“Enjoy,” Jo Marie told her. “Feel free to call me if you need anything.”

“I’m good, thank you.”

She walked the innkeeper to the door and watched Jo Marie walk down the stairs before turning back and pouring herself a cup of tea. Peppermint. That, too, was her favorite.

To her surprise, Mary managed to eat a cookie and half the candy bar, and take a bite from the apple along with half a pot of tea. It was the most she’d eaten at one sitting in weeks. Months. For George’s sake she made a show of eating but had no real appetite.

At half past seven that evening, her cell phone chimed. Anticipating George’s call, she’d set it on her nightstand.

“Mary? Did I wake you?”

“No, I’ve been up for hours, reading. Thank you for my afternoon snack and for dinner.”

“How were the noodles?”

“Incredible. You ordered these locally?”

He chuckled softly. “What do you think?”

“George, don’t tell me you had these sent all the way from Seattle.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.”

The man was unbelievable. She grew serious then, because his actions made her return to New York on Monday all the more difficult. She had no choice but to go back. “Don’t spoil me.” She was serious.

He hesitated. “I guess that means I shouldn’t tell you that I managed to scrounge up two tickets to the high school graduation ceremony.”

She was almost afraid to believe him. “You’re not teasing me, are you?”

“No.”

“How? Where?”

“I told you I had connections, remember?”

“Yes, but I didn’t think it was possible … From everything I heard, there was no way to squeeze another person into that auditorium.”

“Well, they managed to squeeze in two more. We’re going to see our daughter graduate.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, so overwhelmed it was difficult to speak.

“I’ll be there at one tomorrow to pick you up. Sleep well, my love.”

“You, too,” she managed, and then before he could hear the tears in her voice, she disconnected the phone call.

The anniversary party was winding down, and Annie could see that after all the excitement of the day her grandparents were tired out. She found her mother, who was busily chatting with a cousin and her family, giving them directions for the dinner in Seattle the following day.

“I think it might be best if we took Grandma and Grandpa back to the inn,” Annie said, once she had her mother’s attention.

“Not to worry, honey. Oliver has already seen to that.”

“Oh.” Annie looked up, and sure enough, she found Oliver escorting the anniversary couple out the door.

She couldn’t help being disappointed. Annie had hoped the two of them would have some time together alone. If he left the party, she might not see him again until morning.

“That’s all right, isn’t it?” her mother asked.

Her mother must have read her look of dismay.

“Oh, sure, that’s great … not a problem.”

“You did a truly wonderful job, Annie. Dad and I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Her mother’s praise warmed her heart.

Before her parents left, Annie and her mother briefly hugged. Most all of her out-of-town relatives would head back to the inn, but her parents would return to Seattle.

Annie stuck around to write out the final checks to the caterer and the band. She sat at the head table while the crew dismantled the room, folding up the chairs and tearing down the tables. The door to the yacht club opened, and bright sunshine flooded the room.

Annie looked up as Oliver walked in. He’d changed into casual clothes and wore slacks and a light jacket. Her heart reacted immediately. This strong attraction caught her unaware. She wasn’t prepared to deal with it, and try as she might, she couldn’t hide her smile.

“You didn’t really think I’d leave you here alone to deal with all this, did you?”

Instead of answering his question, she asked one of her own: “How are my grandparents?”

“Exhausted, excited, grateful, happy. They couldn’t stop talking about the friends they saw and all the people who came.”

“That’s great.” It was exactly the way Annie had hoped they’d feel.

“They couldn’t stop talking about you, either, how wonderfully planned the party was and on and on and on.”

Annie almost felt sorry for Oliver having to listen.

“It was a fabulous party, and I bet you’re exhausted, too.”

“It’s not so bad.” She could say that now that the grand affair was over. Her mother and aunt would take over from this point
on. A big family dinner was planned for Sunday afternoon at Annie’s parents’ house.

Oliver picked up one of the checks she’d written. “Anything I can do to help?”

“I’ve got everything under control, but thanks. You were really helpful earlier.”

“Glad to do what I could.” He lifted himself up and sat on the table next to her, his feet dangling over the edge.

“You’ll be with the family tomorrow for dinner, won’t you?” she asked, although she assumed he would be.

“Actually, no.”

Annie’s head shot up. She’d naturally assumed that Oliver would be joining them. “But you drove my grandparents, and I thought …”

“Would you like me to come?”

“Yes,” she said quickly, possibly too quickly, although the time for being coy had long passed.

A smile all but exploded across his face. “Then I’ll see what I can do to make that happen. I would hate to disappoint you.”

“Well, it isn’t only me. I mean, I’m sure my parents would want you to join the family, not to mention Grandma and Grandpa.” In retrospect, Annie didn’t want to appear overly eager.

Tearing out the last check, she delivered it to the appropriate person while Oliver made a phone call. He didn’t mention who was on the other end of the line, and she didn’t ask, but from bits of the conversation it appeared to be one of his traveling buddies.

Oliver followed her out of the hall and into the sunshine. Although it was after seven, it wouldn’t grow dark until eight-thirty or nine.

“Where to now?” he asked, matching his steps to hers.

“I left my car parked down by the gazebo.”

“I’ll walk with you.”

“I’d like that,” she admitted. Only a short while ago she would
have strenuously objected to his company. So much had changed and so quickly. Everything she’d learned about him in the last few hours left her head spinning with unanswered questions.

“Would you like to sit on the dock for a while?” he asked, as they neared the marina.

He hadn’t noticed that the marina was accessible only to those who moored boats there. “Yes, but how would we get inside …”

“There’s another dock a short distance from here,” he said, interrupting her. “We could sit and talk there.”

“I’d like that.” Her head was swimming from the events of the day. She was tired but happy and anxious to be with Oliver, to talk and examine these feelings they shared.